Four days after the takeover of Havvar, we set out on our first transmission run. The communications unit was working, but we couldn’t test it in the city without drawing attention to our mountain. The last thing anyone wanted was for the Orcs to come looking for us. The scouts still reported Orrkasi ships passing by; a few even flew over the mountains. So far, they’d failed to see our sentries and did nothing that made it seem like they knew where we were.
Other than the handful of people who stood guard at the entrance to the city, the survivors stayed inside and out of sight. The Polytrots were much more active. As natural hunters, they went out in packs, mostly at dusk, to hunt in the canyons that skirted the mountain range. They brought back a variety of game, which the survivors cooked to supplement our rations.
We were also conducting a systematic search of the city. It was a valuable find that would be studied for decades by xenoarchaeologists, not to mention the Fleet’s scientists. With that in mind, I assembled an exploration team. They not only went through the buildings on each level, starting with the tunnels leading out of the city, but they also made notes on everything they saw. In the event that the Orrkasi found us, we needed to know the city well enough to plan our escape. We also needed to be able to give detailed reports on the city when the Fleet rescued us, particularly if the Orcs had taken over the underground city or, worse yet, destroyed it in their efforts to eradicate us.
Each tunnel led to a different part of the mountain. Two were blocked by falling rock. One led to the canyon that we were watching day and night, while two others led to parts of the mountain. Of these, one was high up on an open spot that was ideal for an aerial craft to land. Our drop ships were smaller and lighter than the Orrkasi transports, so the section of level ground was the perfect size. The other tunnel was only two stories above the area where we had made our base of operations. It was much longer than the other tunnels and led to a ravine deep inside the chain of mountains.
We didn’t open the blocked passages completely. Trip got the scout drone working again, so in each tunnel, we cut a hole big enough for the drone and sent it out to survey the surroundings. That way, we didn’t have multiple passages to guard. I would have liked to use the lowest tunnel when we set out on our first transmission run, since it led to a more secluded section of the mountains and would have made us less vulnerable to being seen. The Polytrots, however, needed to get to the canyons to hunt. Outside the canyons, there was only sporadic small game, and keeping nearly thirty people fed took more food than the desert alone could provide. We kept the canyon tunnel open and made our plans.
Trip, Barker, and I were the part of the initial transmission team. The petty officer carried with him a backpack so loaded that it looked like the seams might split. He also had a cane made from a gnarled piece of wood that Sorj had brought back to the city.
“I guess I’ll ride in the back and hope that you two jarheads don’t get me killed,” Trip griped as he pushed himself up into the cargo bed of the vehicle.
“Don’t worry,” Barker said. “I’m an excellent driver.”
Barker had changed since our mission. He deferred to my judgment and worked with the other survivors on whatever task was needed. There were times when his boisterous nature got on my nerves, but he wasn’t bullying anyone. He and Trip had begun joking with one another endlessly.
“Says the guy who kills people for a living,” Trip complained.
“Only the people I don’t like,” Barker replied.
“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?” Trip said.
We were all in heavy armor suits. Trip had fashioned short-range com-links that let the sentries communicate with the people inside the city. Trix was our point person while we were away. Despite being uninjured physically, Trix had shown no desire yet to get back into her heavy armor and take up a weapon. Instead, she stayed with McShera and Dockery in the medical building watching over Jordan.
The lieutenant had shown no improvement. She was healing on the outside, but she didn’t wake up. McShera tried to reassure me that it could just be her body’s way of dealing with the trauma. I knew it could also mean she had injuries that would haunt her for the rest of her days, the way my own injuries still plagued me day and night. I desperately wanted to see her wake up. To my regret, she was still unconscious when we had to leave on our mission.
“Be careful out there,” McShera told us as Mook jumped up onto the bench seat beside me and Sorj jumped into the back with Trip.
“Always,” I replied.
Trip already had his helmet on and couldn’t kiss McShera, but he gave her a long hug. When they parted, I saw a tear glistening in her eye.
“Let’s go,” I said, wanting to get out, test the equipment, and return to the safety of the underground city.
“You got it, Staff Sergeant,” Barker said.
He pushed the yoke forward, and the Orrkasi vehicle advanced smoothly. It had been in our possession for a couple of weeks and was used every single day—sometimes hauling heavy loads over long distances, sometimes simply making the journey from our base on the bottom of the underground city up to the canyon tunnel. In all that time, it had shown no need to recharge and no signs of running low on power. It truly seemed to be a perpetual motion machine. Trip wanted to take it apart to see how it worked, but as much as we trusted his mechanical abilities, we didn’t want to risk losing use of the cargo hauler. With our limited resources, a vehicle that didn’t need to be charged or serviced was invaluable.
We rode quietly up the spiral ramp. Below us, the city shone like a sparkling jewel, even though it was getting dark. The sunlight that filtered down from the vents high up in the mountain had faded away, and the glowing mineral that traced the edges of the city brightened.
When Barker took us down the tunnel leading to the canyon, I felt a slight sense of foreboding. We had avoided the Orrkasi since their assault on our previous base camp. My fear was that by making another transmission, we would remind them that we were alive and a threat. I didn’t want them to come looking for us in the mountains; I simply couldn’t imagine a better place to take shelter and wait for relief than the marvelous city in the mountain.
When we reached the canyon, it was fully dark. I sent Scout 2 into the air to do a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree scan before we took the precious cargo hauler with the newly built communications unit out of the tunnel.
“Looks clear,” Barker said.
We were all watching the video feed that was projected in the viewscreens of our helmets. We could see out into the canyon because of the helmet’s low-light magnification. Visibility would improve up on the desert plains: Leonis B had two moons, and those combined with the starlight would be enough to allow us to see in the darkness. Scout 2 had night-vision capabilities and showed no sign of movement across the desert or in the mountains.
“Trip?”
“You’re in charge of this circus,” Trip replied. “Don’t start asking the monkeys what to do.”
“Go,” I ordered Barker.
We left the tunnel and moved silently down the canyon. I popped the sniper scope from the Gnashii and adjusted it to night vision. When we reached the top of the canyon, I began to scan for any signs of trouble. The desert was empty, a vast expanse of open ground. Our goal was to drive out at least fifty kilometers or more, find some cover, and then get the comms unit powered on.
“It feels good to be out of that hole in the ground,” Barker said.
“You think Havvar …is a hole in the ground?” Trip asked incredulously.
“Okay, no,” Barker said. “I just meant it’s good to be out in the open.”
“All right, I’ll allow it,” Trip said. “I was starting to think you were off your rocker, Sergeant.”
“I wish we could take these helmets off,” Barker said. “Would be nice to feel the wind in our hair.”
“And the sand in our eyes,” Trip replied.
“You’re a ‘glass half empty’ kind of guy, Malik,” Barker announced.
“It’s called being realistic,” Trip said. “Ain’t no way I’m letting my hair down while we’re flying through enemy territory.”
“He’s got a point,” I said.
“The Orrkasi don’t do much at night,” Barker countered. “I don’t think we’re going to run into trouble.”
“We still have to be prepared for exactly that,” I cautioned him.
“Yeah, listen to the staff sergeant,” Trip said. “You’re my protection out here. I want you on your A-game.”
“Very funny,” Barker replied. “Just make sure your squawk box is working. I don’t want to be wasting my time.”
Time seemed to fly by just like the terrain. We reached a point where the rangefinder on the sniper scope showed our mountain to be a little over fifty kilometers in the distance. It was part of a hazy line of shadows, and I knew that I was only seeing the peak of the mountain, not the base. We began to look for a place to stop and fire up the equipment.
“Out there,” Barker said, pointing. “Are those boulders?”
I trained my night-vision scope at the spot he was pointing to. A cluster of boulders stood like sentinels in the darkness.
“Good eye, Sergeant,” I said. “That works.”
We pulled up to the large rocks. Two were taller than I was, while one reached my chest. Together, they would protect us from an approaching ship, if one happened to come by. We left the cargo hauler powered on so that it remained a meter off the ground while Barker got out.
“Get up on those rocks,” I ordered. “Keep an eye out for anything moving while we get the comms unit online.”
“Roger that,” Barker said as he climbed up the boulders. I envied his ability to move so easily.
“You need anything, Trip?” I asked.
“Just a little bit of time and a few kind words,” he replied.
I moved out a short distance from the cargo hauler, keeping my back to Trip and my focus out on the desert and in the dark sky above. I put the scope back on the Gnashii, lifted the weapon, and scanned the horizon through the scope. If trouble came along, I wanted to be ready to act, not slowed up by having to put my scope onto my rifle before I could bring the weapon to bear.
“Looks clear, Staff Sergeant,” Barker said.
“Outstanding. I hope that continues,” I replied. “Trip?”
“Everything is on, but I’m not transmitting yet,” he replied. “Just a few more seconds.”
I would have been lying if I’d said I wasn’t nervous, and it took all my effort not to rush him. I remembered as a child sitting by a campfire on summer nights, looking up into the sky. Above Earth, there were not only stars, but also satellites and the running lights of spaceships moving in orbit. On Leonis B, I looked up and saw a similar multitude of stars, minus the blinking lights or anything that would lead me to believe there were vessels overhead. At the same time, I knew the Orrkasi had at least one ship in orbit. They had brought reinforcements, and I had seen transports carrying loads of the glowing mineral mined by Polytrots up into orbit. There had to be a ship up there somewhere; once we began transmitting a signal, they would gain some insight into our intentions. A group of troublesome enemy soldiers could cause havoc on ground operations, but the only reason to send a message into space was to call for reinforcements. That was something they would feel the need to stamp out. Even if we stopped the transmission, they would want to find us.
In the best-case scenario, this first transmission would put the Orrkasi on alert. When we transmitted again, they would have no questions about our plan. In my mind, no serious military could permit their enemy to call in reinforcements to contested ground. The best way to end the threat was to exterminate us. Once we were no longer alive to be rescued, the Fleet would have less incentive to fight for Leonis B.
“All right,” Trip said, “we are transmitting.”
I turned and looked at the setup. Trip had put it all together in a case with hinges. To operate the unit, he opened it up, revealing the equipment in three sections. Above this was a folding parabolic dish with a long-range transmission antenna connected to the center. It could all be taken apart and stowed together in the case. Along with the equipment was a supercharged set of batteries that powered it—the transmitter needed a lot of power to send a signal out of the planet’s atmosphere and beyond orbit.
The whole device was impressive, and I hoped it would turn out to be worthwhile. We didn’t even know if the communications buoy was in range. If it was behind the planet, our message would be useless, little more than a beacon to our enemies saying, ‘Here we are, come and destroy us.’
“Start the timer,” I said.
“Already done,” Trip said. “Marking the time, too.”
“You think anyone is listening?” Barker asked.
“There’s no way to know if our people are listening,” I said. “On the other hand, there’s no doubt the Orrkasi will notice the signal.”
“They can’t understand us, though,” Barker said. “Right?”
“To our knowledge, they can’t,” I said. “They didn’t question us when we were held captive, and they couldn’t read the signage on the Rihla .”
“They’ll know we’re sending a signal, but not what it says,” Barker said. “They’ll probably just assume the worst and come to murder us. Damn, I hate feeling this helpless.”
“Would you rather be fighting?” Trip asked.
“No,” Barker replied—honestly, I thought. “This is just so passive. Not even knowing if we’re getting the message to our people is maddening.”
“I hear you,” I said sympathetically. “And it’s dangerous. We may not be poking the bear, but we’re making enough noise that he’ll remember we’re here.”
“And that means the Orrkasi will come for us,” Barker said.
“We’ll be gone by the time they get here,” I assured him. “The plan is to be safe back at the city by the time they get close.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask—what happens if they catch sight of us?” Trip asked.
“Then we can’t go back,” I said. “We’ll have to run, hide, and hope they don’t find us.”
“Maybe the next time, I teach one of you guys to run this unit. It’s so easy,” Trip said. “Basically works itself. You don’t even need me!”
Barker and I both laughed at Trip’s only half-joking sentiment. In all honesty, I didn’t totally mind the thought of future excursions into the dazzling landscape of Leonis B. Despite the dangers we’d faced, the planet had grown on me. Still, with all its beauty, I was ready to go back to what I was used to. I would have taken life on a cramped space cruiser over a pristine planet crawling with Orcs any day.
We sent the transmission for a solid hour. It contained a prerecorded message with information on our experiences with the Orrkasi, with mention of the Polytrots. The four-legged animals weren’t anxious to be dependent on the Fleet. They didn’t want to be rescued: they wanted a partnership, to be seen as allies. We mentioned having made contact with them, saving the fact that we were living in the same community for later. Finally, we loosely described the city, avoiding any specifics about its location under the mountain. If the Orrkasi could interpret our message, we didn’t want them finding out where it was.
“Time to pack it up,” I said as we neared the end of the transmission.
“Amen to that,” Trip said.
“We’re still clear, Staff Sergeant,” Barker said.
“Very good,” I replied. “Come on down.”
The drone was still hovering overhead, making a slow scan with visual radar combined with motion-sensing technology. We were just about to set off when Mook began to moan beside me. I reached out and touched the Polytrot’s back; he was trembling.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Hoya!” Mook groaned.
“Hoya,” Sorj repeated from the cargo bed, where he was pressing his body against Trip.
“This little fella seems scared,” Trip commented.
“What does ‘hoya’ mean?” Barker asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, just as an alert from Scout 2 flashed onto my HUD.
“Movement,” Barker said, his voice tight.
“Let’s stay calm,” I advised, raising my rifle to look in the direction that the drone had indicated. There was no sign of Orrkasi troopers or vessels. Instead, a dark cloud bank loomed on the horizon. I couldn’t tell if it was moving, but obviously something about it had set off the alert on the drone.
“What is it?” Trip asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Looks like bad weather, maybe.”
“You ever been in the desert during a storm?” Barker asked. “Looks like Armageddon.”
“Let’s not stick around and find out,” I said. “Go.”
“Roger that,” Barker said.
We took off, making a wide turn and heading back toward the mountains. I turned around and looked through my scope again. To my surprise, the cloud bank already looked much closer.
“Are we going at full speed?” I asked.
“Affirmative,” Barker said.
“Oh, this sounds bad,” Trip said.
“The weather front is closing in,” I said. “I can’t get a fix on it. I don’t know how far out it is.”
“Well, we can’t go any faster,” Barker said. “Shit, there’s no shelter between us and the canyon.”
“I guess we’re going to find out just how good these suits are,” Trip said.
I could feel my heart rate accelerating. Since crashing on Leonis B, we had not seen inclement weather of any kind. Often, there was hardly even wind, only a slight breeze high up on the mountains.
“You’ve got experience in this type of weather?” I asked Barker.
“I’ve been on Mars during a storm,” he said. “The wind blows the sand into a massive wall. That’s why they don’t paint the houses outside the big cities. The farms there look like bare metal because the storms roll through and scour them all clean.”
“Staff Sergeant, this equipment can’t handle something like that,” Trip said. “This is pretty fragile stuff when it’s cobbled together like this.”
“Got it. Give me a moment and I’ll think of a plan,” I said.
The truth was, I had no idea what to do. We didn’t want to stop and give the storm time to gain on us. The only thing I had to cover the communications gear was a parachute that I had brought along to use as camouflage if we were caught out on the desert in the daylight. The last thing I wanted to do was to get out the parachute: in a storm, it might catch the wind and cause more harm than good.
“We can make it,” Barker said.
“No choice but to try,” I concurred.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Trip grumbled.
“At least the Orcs can’t attack in the storm,” Barker said.
“Let’s hope not,” I replied. “For all we know, they’re causing that weather front.”
“Damn, he’s always got a way of making this place seem downright threatening,” Trip said.
Barker laughed, slightly frantically. “Maybe that’s because we’re always being threatened.”
He was right—only this time, we were facing something totally new.